An anomalous thought occurred to me on Saturday morning as I sipped a latte cup of bile and delved into this deliciously vindictive Alan Ramsey tirade
against the taxpayer-funded Kerry Packer memorial service at the Opera
House: “A celebration of an obscene tycoon and his obscene wealth,”
said Ramsey.

Fair enough. But I was more upset about the little brat from Chevalier
College, Bowral, who was said to be singing the words to Papa Packer’s
favourite song – Waltzing Matilda – at the televised shindig the night
before.Whereas the excellent words penned by Mr AB Paterson had the
concerned squatter and his three police force companions collectively
inquiring as to the ownership of a young sheep that the raiding party
had just witnessed Mr Swagman catch, kill, dress and stash away in his
esky: “Whose is the jumbuck you’ve got in your tucker-bag? You’ll come
a-waltzing Matilda with we.”

“You’re nicked!” is what the wallopers were saying to the
sheep-stealing itinerant farm labourer who was literally and
figuratively caught red-handed. But the guttersnipe from Bowral and the
2,000 sycophants in the audience did not sing Banjo’s poignant words but
distinctly uttered this Women’s Weekly drivel: “Who’s that jolly jumbuck
you’ve got in your tucker-bag? You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me.”

“What’s your pet lamb’s name, sonny?” was what the Kerry Packer-person
was asking. It is a line of enquiry (not unknown to our s*x tourist
brothers from across the Tasman in NZ) that hardly provides a sound
reason to jump up, throw a hissy fit and then drown yourself in the
nearest water hole.

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